Pamela Griffith: Etchings 1965-2014

 review by Gary Sangster

A new coffee table book, Pamela Griffith: Etchings 1965-2014, by the redoubtable curator and writer Lou Klepac, published by Beagle Press, is a fine addition to a growing literature on senior Australian artists that is comprehensive and vitally accessible, as such books should be.

The range of images, the extent of the imaginative depictions and forms in these prints, their linearity, their soft colour schemes, and their cohesive arrangements of natural life, are both enticing and comforting at once. 

As with most etching, a venerated technology, the images are reliant on the line as the primary means for depicting and delineating form, and then back-filled with a restrained and soft colour palette. The limitations of the technique portend a more stylised and book-like image, a work of art that is easily transferable across different presentation forms, the framed image, the book, the poster, even the placemat. This is how the democratisation of art works. 

Printmaking, second only to photography in terms of its democratisation of aesthetics,yet is so much more culturally resonant than the photograph. Prints retain the hand of the artist as a vital signature in the production of both plates and images in a more immediate, and one could argue, more authentic way.  Not to disparage the form and aesthetics of photography, but to highlight the more supple and potentially more nuanced surface of the fine art print in the way colour stains and bleeds into the paper, saturating it, and adding an ever-so slight depth and diffusion to the colour and form.

Far from the deep void before us of artificial intelligence and machine-driven production, Griffith explores a wide range of what might easily be described as natural intelligence, plants, animals, sea-life, birdlife, wildlife, and to some extent, landscape too. I didn't spy insects amongst the subject matter here, but that's an omission, similar to the absence of people, driven (of course) by the organic forms of the natural world, a kind of distinct choice in the taxonomies of the natural world by Griffith, driven by the appearance of things, rather than a desire for encyclopaedic representation of nature.

Although, there is one somewhat sober, captivating image of snake-skin shoes included here, an exotic reminder of our dependence on the natural world, not just for protection, but for high-fashion as well as for capital production. In this rending, the shoes look well-aged and well-worn, a high compliment in itself. 

Griffith, just 10 years older than me, and my very first and inspired/inspiring art teacher, has remarkably kept her head in the art game with a resilience and focus that can often flag at the changing of the art guard and the cyclical 'fashionism' of the contemporary art world. In some sense, the fast-changing and voracious world of contemporary art has caught up with Griffith. With its renewed interest in the vitality and fragile durability of the natural world, the self-consciousness of rediscovering artists devoted to describing and depicting nature, sans the moralism and morbidity of decrying nature's decay or demise, seems long overdue.  

Griffith’s work is subdued, careful, restrained, and resonates with hope and possibility, rather than optimism for nature under extinction-level threats. That seems right. 

Nevertheless the contemporary relevance and urgency of artists' engagement with nature in all its forms seems vitally important in the present moment and Griffith’s work has a knowing sensibility that is never not within reach. The opening photograph of Ms Griffith in this book is wryly exceptional. She is seen here bedecked in industrial-class air-filtering mask, and casting a suspicious glance towards the photographer, she exudes studio-seriousness, what we expect from any leading artist, and this photograph resonates more profoundly in the post-covid era of unchecked toxic modernity. It is a canny choice, considering the elegance and delight of the natural-world etched images to follow. Very cool.

The book virtually thrums with accomplishment, characterised by the 3-C artistic benchmarks: consistency, coherence, and quality (ok, not three "C's" but you get the point.) 

It should be a thrill to own any of Griffith’s exceptional etchings, but if that's not an option, Pamela Griffith: Etchings 1965-2014 is a wonderful alternative.

 © Gary Sangster, 2026

Pamela Griffith: Etchings 1965-2014

 review by Andrew Totman

I’m writing this from the aspect of an artist, an educator and as a longtime admirer of Griffith’s arts practice and as a recent acquaintance of the artist, the images and writing on an established Australian artist is not preaching but revealing and is a delight to spend time with, in my own studio.

My first response to printmaking was to the process and the professor sharing the history and skills of the process, this book continues the journey allowing to pass down if even only a small part of Griffith works, giving the viewer a glimpse into the life of the artist, the teacher and the person that is Pamela Griffith.

The range of images, the extent of the imaginative depictions and forms in these prints, their linearity, their personal colour schemes, and their cohesive arrangements of natural life, are both enticing and comforting at once. 

The book becomes a dialogue between the history of the print media, the artist who creates and the author capturing the words.

It’s almost impossible to speak about printmaking or a printmaker without history and process being part of the story, but this book does not preach down to the student, nor does it remain simplified for the trained professional.  Griffith explores a wide range of what might easily be described as the world around us all, plants, animals, sea-life, bird-life, wildlife, the organic forms of the natural world, a kind of distinct choice in the taxonomies of the natural world by Griffith, driven by the appearance of things, rather than a desire for encyclopaedic representation of nature.

A book like this is a lasting memory of the dedication and work it takes to enter the studio each and every day, the dedication and resilience to return again and again, after a successful day or after a very challenging one, the book is a true testament of Griffith’s stoic ability to keep the media of printmaking honest and vibrant as well as remaining valid today.

Andrew Totman 2026

Artist/Curator